


Vinctus

by Little_Millie_Nightingale



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abduction (Mentioned), Experimentation, F/M, Imprisonment, Medical Experimentation, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-04 04:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2941898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Millie_Nightingale/pseuds/Little_Millie_Nightingale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this imagine from marvelximagine.tumblr.com:<br/>Imagine being Kidnapped by SHIELD and experimented on because your a child of Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You didn’t know how long you were left there, strapped to what you thought was a metal table, but, however long you’d been there, it had given you plenty of time to think about how this had happened, how had they found you. They found you pretty quickly to be honest, within an hour of you landing on Midgard. Your plan was to find your uncle Thor, and enjoy some of Midgard’s culture the way it was supposed to be enjoyed. But you’d barely made it out of the park where Heimdal had left you before you’d been attacked, and now there you were, strapped down. You supposed that whoever had taken you had mistaken you for your father at first, and then when they realised you weren’t the Infamous Trickster God, they must have recognised you as being of his blood. You definitely looked like Loki, Black Hair slicked straight and a narrow face with High Cheekbones, your eyes that same eerie shade of sea green. You’d lived in hiding most of your child life, living in fear of Odin, but when the old King had died, Loki had rescued you from the hovel you’d been living in and brought you back to the palace.   
You could tell the room was cold by the prickle of heat your breath left in the air in front of you, it was about the only thing you could see, the rest of the room was darker than the spaces between Yggdrasil’s roots. Luckily, cold didn’t bother you as much as it would anyone else, your Jotun blood afforded you some protection against it. Gods! Who in Hel’s name were these people? What did they want? You jerked against the taps holding you down, wincing as the buckles clattered against the table, it was a sound that seemed impossibly loud in the dead silence of the room. Damn these people. Damn them to the depths of Hel.

It seemed like hours had passed before the strobe lights above you flashed on, glowing bright. They blinded you, and you turned your head to the side with your eyes closed in an attempt to lessen the pain But the light was invasive, and even with your eyes closed, it took you a few seconds to adjust to the brightness. You’d been left for Hours in the darkness, and you’d become accustomed to it, the light hurt. When you were finally able to crack your eyes open, you immediately noticed the figure standing over you. Immediately you scowled, trying your best to imitate the murderous, superior look Loki had once had in his eyes.  
“Do you have any Idea who I am, Mortal?” You demanded.  
“Yeah, Lady, we know who you are, we know your Loki’s kid, that makes you as much of a threat to earth as he was.” The Man’s features were beginning to come into focus, he was fair haired and a large, jagged scar ran down the side of his face, from his temple to his Jaw. His nonchalance caused you to pause, but you quickly regained yourself, trying as hard as you could to make yourself look threatening, but you knew that, tied to a table, you looked more like a cornered, angry kitten then a powerful Alien.  
“Who are you?” You demanded, still keeping the superiority in your voice and denying that little prickle of fear that was settling in the pit of your stomach.  
“We’re SHIELD.” Another voice cut through there room, loud and clear and definitely female. “I’m Agent Davidson, head of this department, and you have been detained because you are believed to be a significant threat to earth.”  
“What?” You said, incredulous “Threat to earth? I’m-”  
“You are related to Loki of Asgard are you not?”  
“Yes, but-”  
“And you are aware of the damage that Loki caused on his last visit to earth.”  
“Of course, but-”  
“Then you understand why you have been classified as a significant risk to Earth’s safety.” You turned my head and glared fiercely at the woman, irritated by her continuing interruptions, no wonder these mortals were so good at starting wars and destroying each other. They never listened. As if the conversation was over, the woman turned her back toward you and picked up a device from a small bench, when she turned back toward you, you realised she was holding a syringe. “This is X-SKY-0005, it’s our latest sedative, specifically engineered to be effective against Jotun blood.” Your eyes widened. “We got a sample from your father when he was last here.”  
“Keep that away from me.” You ordered, the woman gave a simpering smile and you jerked and struggled against the straps, fighting to get free as she stepped up to the table, Syringe in hand.  
“Agent.” The Scarfaced man stepped forward, hands landing on you, his extra weight pinning you down to the bench. “It’s nothing to be concerned with, although I’ve heard the side-effects can be quite disorientating.”  
“NO!” The needle stung as it slid easily under your skin and the sensation of the fluid filling your veins made you shudder. The effect was instantaneous, your vision blurred and your heart raced, every muscle in your body shuddering as they grew heavy, your vision darkened, and eventually everything blurred to a murky shade of grey.

\---

“She’s not completely out of it…” You heard the voice of the Scarfaced man, but you couldn’t concentrate on it for too long. “She’s already had double the dosage.”   
“It’s enough for now, transfer her to her room.”

\---

Beneath you the cart clattered across the floor before stopping, you heard a whir, like the Bifrost powering up, only quieter and drawn out, and you felt like you’re rising up into the sky. After another bump, the cart’s movements are quieter and smoother, and you found yourself drifting again.

\---

There’s someone manipulating you, moving your arms and legs, you can hear the rustle of fabric. After a moment, someone lies you down, the room goes quiet, and you lie in silence.

\---

Gods you felt sick…  
Everything around you faded from white shapes to complete grey and then back again, and every time it did, your head throbbed and you could feel bile rising in the back of your throat.  
You didn’t feel like opening your eyes just yet, you lay there, on a strange surface that felt soft, but at the same time, solid. It was made of a strange fabric, it reminded you of leather, but something about it felt wrong. You weren’t wearing your leathers, you realised, and, eyes still closed, your hand crept up to your torso, expecting to feel the familiar coolness of your armour, there was nothing there except a thin cotton fabric. Slowly, you levered yourself up into a sitting position, resting your temple against a smooth, cool wall, it takes you a few minutes to recover from that., your mouth stayed dry no matter how many times you swallowed, and the air tastes wrong, it’s tainted with some sort of Mortal chemical that burns the back of your throat. That prickle of fear that had made its home in the pit of your stomach has turned into a festering growth, and the longer you sit there, eyes closed, the more it grows, and the less you want to open your eyes eventually you pick up the courage and force your eyes open, raising your head. The room was completely white; one wall is glass, with a heavy door set into it, also glass. Off to one side was a tiny room, no bigger than you, with standard Midgardian bathroom faculties. Even the room you were in now was barely bigger than a small closet. You were sitting on a narrow cot, made from some sort of shiny, hard material. There was nothing else in the room, and approximately two strides between the bed and the wall. You were in a box, a Midgardian Box with a glass window where they could watch you every moment. You pushed yourself up, ignoring the dizziness that swept three you and walked the two steps to the glass wall, the glass, you observed, was very thick, with bare hands, you had no hope of breaking it. But still you slammed your hands against the glass with an angry scream. “Release me!” You demanded, although as far as you could see, there was no-one there.

You ranted and screamed for at least another 20 minutes before you gave in, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at your hands. They shook, and you weren’t sure whether it was because of your growing anxiety and fear or a side effect from the drug they’d given you. You felt a burning hatred for these people, SHIELD, although you knew your Uncle Thor worked with them to save earth from the Chitauri. You didn’t know what they were planning to do to you, or even if they were going to kill you.  
Gods how you wished you’d never gotten into this mess, why couldn’t you have just stayed in Asgard, where you were safe?  
You looked up as a person stepped in front of the glass. A tall man, smartly dressed with smart hair but with a receding hairline. He had an expression on his face which was serious but not harsh. You decided he was a person you wouldn’t like to cross.  
“Good evening, miss Lokisdottir.” The man spoke, after watching you for a few seconds. “My name is Agent Phill Coulson.”  
You chose to ignore his introduction. “What time is it?” You inquired instead, picking up on his use of the word evening.  
He didn’t seem too offended by this. “It’s 6.45.” He replied. “What are you doing on Earth?”  
You gave a harsh laugh. “Do you seriously think that just because you answered a query of mine that I’ll answer a question of yours?”  
“Given your situation, I don’t see that you have that much of a choice.” Your jaw clenched, this man infuriated you.  
“Fine.” You huffed. “I came to spend some time enjoying your culture. And I must say, I am thoroughly enjoying myself so far.” You finished on a hiss.  
“Enjoying our culture?”  
You tilted your head to the side and gave him a condescending smirk. “I believe it’s my turn to ask a question, Agent.”  
He nodded his head, and for a moment his calm demeanour amazed you. “What do you intend to do with me?”  
“Whatever our research department sees fit, SHIELD has put emphasis on developing weaponry do defend ourselves against alien invasion. Last night Davidson proposed developing Bio-weapons. I can only assume she intends to use you in the development and testing of these weapons.”  
“Davidson was the woman in the room?” Coulson nodded. “She was rude.” You raised your head and met Coulson’s calm blue gaze. “I assume you wish to know what I meant by enjoying Midgardian Culture?” He said nothing, and his eyes didn’t waved. “I intended to visit and stay with, for some time at least, with Thor. He is my Uncle, and after the events involving the Aether and…” You paused, dropping your gaze to the floor before raising your head and meeting Coulson’s eyes with a clear, yet sad gaze. “And the death of my father… Thor’s the only family I have left.” Something shifted in Coulson’s eyes.  
“Were you close to Loki and Thor?” His voice was softer, and you knew you had gotten a foothold in the Agent’s professional exterior, So you allowed yourself to relax, took your guard down.  
“Always with Thor… with my father… I didn’t know him up until maybe a hundred years ago… It was a… secretive relationship.” you played with the hem of the ridiculous garment they’d put you in.  
“How so?”  
“I would have been seen as a Royal Bastard. I’d heard horror stories of what Bor did to his younger sons’ bastards. Loki, and myself, were afraid of what would happen if Odin were to find out.” you had to be careful, you warned yourself, this was getting too close and personal, and it was probably the most truth you’d ever told to a stranger. But if you could play the pity card with Agent Coulson, you were in with a chance of freedom.  
Coulson looked at you, “I’m sorry, in this situation there isn’t much I can do, the decisions are being made by people higher up, and people who rarely listen to people like me. Thank you for co-operating.” With that he nodded his head and walked off, rocking you. You stared at the space where he was stood, trying to figure out what had happened, wether or not you had just tried to play someone who had been played too many times before. You sat back, jaw clenched and a mildly surprised expression on your face.

\---

The monitoring room was quiet, Director Nick Fury stood behind a camera operative’s chair watching the feed from your cell. “Well?” He asked, as Coulson entered the room, the door clicking shut behind him.  
“I don’t know.”  
“You don’t know?” Fury shot him a look, incredulous, and demeaning at the same time.  
“She’s a lot like Loki, angry, vengeful, and definitely manipulative, but afraid, and I don’t think she lied to me there, if anything, she probably told me the truth to manipulate me. How was the hearing?”  
“Half of them voted to execute her, so that didn’t pass. But the experiments are going ahead.”  
“What do we do?”  
“Give our go-ahead.” Fury glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and then looked at the back of the camera Operative’s head before Coulson could protest. So instead Coulson nodded. “I’ll get the papers to you to authorise…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your ordeal begins, and you realise you have a watchful guardian in the form of Agent Coulson.
> 
> Based on this imagine from marvelximagine.tumblr:   
> Imagine being kidnapped by SHIELD and experimented on because your Loki's Child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:   
>  Imprisonment, Anxiety, Panic, induced paralysis.

You felt like a trapped animal, pacing back and forth in front of the glass wall of your cell, we’’. You called it pacing, it was more like ‘five steps, turn, five steps, turn, five steps, turn.’ Over and over and over again for hours, as time goes, you figured it had been approximately five hours since the man who Identified himself as Agent Phil Coulson had left, you had seen no-one. The corridor outside your cell had remained completely empty. It was infuriating; you weren’t use to the isolation and the confined space, and you weren’t use to the dread that was roiling in your stomach, Coulson had mentioned ‘experiments’ and from what you knew from your interactions with Yggdrasil, Mortal ‘Experiments’ varied in contents, but their experiments on live animals and on each other were vicious and violent, and often traumatic. You were feeling an emotion you hadn’t felt in a long time, and the more you paced, the more you felt like you were losing control.   
Which was completely stupid, the entire reason you were pacing in the first place was to calm yourself down! Frustrated, you kicked a wall, wincing at the shock wave the impact sent through your foot. It’s enough to make you finally sit down; after all, there isn’t much else you can do. Eventually, you lie down, pacing and trauma had worn you out, and you knew that the worst was yet to come. Even though you knew you needed rest, you simply stared at the glass wall, unwilling to let your guard down for too long. It was then you notices the five figures coming down the hallway towards your cell, instinctively, you sat up, slow and languid, like a cat watching its prey, intimidation had worked for you before, and as far as you were concerned, it would work for you again.

Standing up, you pushed your shoulders back, and glared hard at the people approaching you, you could see now that they were wheeling a bed between them, straps ran across it, and in places, you could see what resembled cuffs. Amusing, those humans thought they could get you onto that bed without you putting up any sort of resistance; you’d like to see them try.  
The air vent that linked your cell to the corridor clicked closed, and you looked up at it suspiciously before you became aware of a soft hissing sound. The door to the small bathroom slid closed with an audible slam, and as you spun on your heel, you saw the smoke leaking from a small vent near the floor. You presumed it was some sort of aerosolized sedative mixture, Shame, you rather fancied a fight. The smoke filled the room, and you coughed as the mixture, which was acrid to the taste and clung to you, wormed its way into your lungs. You couldn’t see and which each breath, you found yourself gasping for more air. Dropping to your knees, you sway, your arms too heavy for you to lift. Again, you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, and you imagine that you can feel the stuff your breathing in seeping through your bones. This wasn’t right, you thought this sedative stuff was designed to knock you unconscious, but this, this was different, you collapse, eyes still open, still aware, but your muscles aren’t responding, every breath is laboured, hindered by the smoke, but at the same time you feel like your forcing every breath past your lips, using all of your will just to keep drawing air in.

Slowly the smoke clears, but movement doesn’t return with the gas’ retreat. The five figures that had been standing in the hall make their way into the room, and three of them lift you up. You try to snarl at them, to tell them to get away from you, but the only sound you can make is a breathless strangled noise halfway between a gasp of surprise and a growl of anger.  
“Man that stuff’s pretty nasty.” One of them comments, as they half drag, half throw you onto the moving bed and fasten the straps across you, what you suspected to be cuffs were fastened around your wrists and ankles.  
“S’posed to be.” Another grunted. “Some of the other subjects died, it affects muscles - that means heart and lungs too; she’s probably having a tough time keeping breathing.”   
You were, you could feel the effort it took just to draw in your next breath, even that left you weak and dizzy, you were lucky it wasn’t affecting your heart, you knew that your frost giant heritage had given you that extra kick of strength. The bed starts to move again, and all you can do is look around you, you can’t move your head and you’re conscious of your dry mouth and need to swallow. As you and your entourage move through the halls, you kept expecting for your control over your own body to return, but as the bed came to a halt in a small, silver walled room, you realised it was unlikely you’d get movement back in your limbs for a long time. The room you were in whirred like the engine of the Bifrost, and when the doors opened again, you were wheeled out onto a completely different corridor. As you focused on your breathing, pat of your mind wondered how, how had you travelled from one corridor to another without leaving the room, did this realm have technologies similar to the Bifrost?  
When you heard the creak of doors opening ahead of you, you really began to panic, your heart rate leapt up, and you became aware of everything about you as you were wheeled into a dimly lit room. Again, you hear the whirr of machinery, but it’s constant, and different to the sound you’d heard before. The bed stopped, and you listened carefully to the sound of semi muffled voices, trying to pick out what was familiar to you. First, the heavily accented voice of Agent Davidson, a woman you would take great pleasure in killing when you had the chance. You heard another door open, and the clicking of something against the floor, heels, you realised. The slim, tucked waist form of Agent Davidson drifted into your vision, if you weren’t frozen, you would have snarled.

“I want bloods and tissue samples first, X-rays, and then an MRI.” She said, looking straight at you, but with no compassion in her eyes, like she was looking at something less than human, when you, you were something so much more. You knew what Blood and Tissues samples meant, they were after genetic material, and you wondered what they would use it for, Bio-weapons, like they’d used your father’s blood for the sedative – or would they use it to try and better themselves? –you weren’t sure what was worse.  
One of the people in the room approached you with a depressed syringe and inserted it into the vein in the crook of your elbow. Pain. But the only response you could give was to close your eyes, you’d suffered through worse though, and the sickly feeling that came with having blood drawn passed quickly. But when another person took a sample of skin from the back of your hand, you couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes closed in pain, the car moved again, and the straps were undone as you were transferred to a softer bed. The freedom of not being strapped down was temporary. Your hands and feet were fastened to cuffs on the side of the bench and metal box, which, you noticed, was attached to rails along the roof, was moved so that it was over your head. Irrationally, you thought for a second it was going to fall on you, someone moved your head, pushing blocks either side of it to keep it in place. Your breathing picked up, this added restraint only increasing your anxiety, you didn’t like it, you felt trapped, and the fear only deepened when you realised that the person in the room had left. A minute passed, and he returned, moved the box and then left again. This happened three more times, and by the end of it you no longer cared what it was they were doing, you were fighting hard to try and move something, anything, a finger. Heck, you would be happy if you could wriggle your nose!  
Davidson entered the room; her presence predicted by the clack of her heals on the floor. “Take her to the other room, full body MRI. Give her another dose as well, we don’t want her getting control back just yet.”  
No, you don’t, you thought viciously, imagining your hands around that woman’s throat. Honestly, thinking about it scared you after the initial wish to kill her, you might have been like your father, but you weren’t a killer, not yet. You were again transferred to the bed, but this time, you weren’t strapped down, not that it mattered, you couldn’t move. A syringe full of blue liquid was injected into your arm and you hissed out a breath. Murdering them was starting to look less and less extreme.

When they moved you onto another bed, you caught sight of what someone referred to as the MRI Scanner. You were fastened down again, thick straps across your torso, stomach and thighs. When someone placed the blocks either side of your head, you panicked again, and this time the tight, tense feeling in the pit of your stomach didn’t go away. They fastened a strap over your forehead, and one by one left the room.  
It was unbearable, you were tense, waiting, your breath coming in hard ragged breaths, panicked and strained as you tried with every fibre of your being to move. There was nothing, not even a flicker, and it was unbearable.  
You were a princess of Asgard and of Jotunheim, you were the Princess of Asgard, next in line for the throne, and here you were lying motionless, unable to do anything whilst these humans, these mortals did with you whatever they wanted to. It infuriated you to be so… so useless.

Beneath you, the bed juddered, sliding headfirst into the heart of the machine, instinctively, your heart clenched as the cream and grey metal of the device moved past you, you could see a strip of light, only a few inches from your face. You felt light headed, panicky, and your breathing changed from strained breaths to shallow panicky gasps.  
It wasn’t so bad; you tried to tell yourself in an effort to keep yourself calm. It’ll only take a few minutes. You’ll be out again in no time. When you told yourself this, you didn’t hear your voice, you heard his; you heard Loki’s. From that one time he visited you and you broke your leg falling from a tree, he’d rushed you to the Palace healers, but you were terrified of the soul-forge. He stayed beside you the entire time. You tried to imagine him with you now, hand on your shoulder, his familiar presence calming you, by some miracle, it helped. Until the machine kicked to life, whirring and clanging, a sound similar to a warning horn blearing through the repetitive thudding. It kept going the whirring becoming a shrill buzzing until you couldn’t take it anymore; you scrunched your eyes shut, but nothing at all that you could do to drown out the sound.

\---

When you awoke, you were in your cell, lying on your side and looking straight at no other than Phil Coulson. You sat up, marvelling at the fact that you finally could. You were shaky, dizzy and very disorientated, but you managed to prop yourself against the wall.  
“What happened?”  
“According to reports you passed out in the MRI scanner.” He replied. “I don’t blame you, had to go through one about 5 years ago. Suspected spinal injury.”  
You looked up at him, at his unwavering gaze. “What did it do; the machine?”  
“It took a picture of you, your internal organs and such.”  
“Oh…” There was a plastic bottle of water on the bedside table, as well as a covered dish of food. You weren’t hungry, just tired.   
“You’re not as… fiery, today as you were yesterday.”  
“I’m part ice giant, not fire giant.” You replied sarcastically, but you didn’t mean it, you met his eyes, your gaze darker and slightly more malevolent, but not threatening. “Is there much use in me being, as you say, ‘fiery’ when I’m in a glass box that you can fill with gas whenever it pleases you?”  
“Not us.”  
“Your organization.” You countered.  
“Not my division.” You unscrewed the bottle of water (after examining the instructions on the lid) and took a sip.  
“What is your division?” He looked at you, eyes narrowing. “Who am I going to tell? The bed stand?”  
He shrugged. “I guess not. I’m a field agent.”  
“That’s it?”  
“The rest is classified.”  
You sighed. “That’s disappointing; I was rather hoping to hear a grand adventure.” You picked up the lid and peered at the food under it, it was something familiar to you from your years living in the under city, a baked potato.  
“You’re like him, you know. Your father.”  
You raised your eyes from the potato, even though you were suddenly famished. “Oh? And how would you know my father?”  
“He stabbed me.” You weren’t expecting that.  
“If that’d the case, you’re lucky to be alive… Thor boasts as the most skilled fighter in the nine realms, but I’ve met no other that can match my father’s aim with a blade…” You paused, knowing that most would probably have offered some type of condolence or comfort for that kind of experience. “My condolences, for going through that…”  
“And my condolences, for you having to go through this.”  
You shook your head, “I’m more concerned for my father and uncle… Thor was expecting me… he’ll be… disappointed.” On any other day, you would have played it up, playing on the Agent’s soft heart, but after the events of today, you had no strength to play the manipulation game, and you were 100% sure it wouldn’t work even if you tried. You simply lacked your father’s silver tongue – that or this man was as wise as Heimdal was.

“Agent Coulson.” You both looked up, you bristling as the slim form of Agent Davidson sauntered down the corridor. “and our favourite guest. How nice to see you awake.” She smiled a smile that set you on edge. “Coulson you don’t have the clearance to be here.”  
“I’m here on Director Fury’s orders.” Coulson replied coolly, not budging, you had to admire the man’s courage.  
“I don’t care, he doesn’t have authority in this division, from now on, you need clearance from me to be down here, do I make myself clear?”   
“Perfectly.” He still didn’t waver, but instead walked back the way he came, slowly, purposefully. Not looking back over his shoulder.  
“You should eat. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.” You moved like lightning, leaping to your feet and slamming your hand to the glass, you stood right in front of the woman, who was shorter than you by only a few inches – but in your anger it made no difference. The air crackled around you, thick with tension.   
“For all that you have done to me; I will take my revenge on you.” You hissed; your voice deep and threatening. “One day, Agent Davidson, you’ll make a mistake and I will personally send you straight to the depths of Hel.”  
The woman was startled, and had taken a step back away from you, even Coulson, now at the end of the corridor, turned to watch, his expression unreadable. You took a step back from the glass, hands falling to your side as you stared down the woman who held you hostage. For a moment, she seemed too shocked to speak, and you felt a smug satisfaction. “We’ll see.” She finally said, before turning on her heel and stalking away.   
You realised you’d just won a battle. But you also realised that you’d probably made everything a whole lot worse for yourself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davidson gets her revenge for the Reader's threats and the ball starts rolling in the Avengers Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this Chapter:   
> Food Poisoning, vomiting, Genetic Experimentation, Scarfaced Man and Agent Davidson, Blood, Injury. Fight scene, choking, physical restraint.

It was the third time in ten minutes that you’d found yourself leaning over the small toilet bowl, one hand holding your hair back as you emptied your stomach contents (Which at this point was nothing more than bile) into it. You whimpered, Taking a deep, fast breath as again your stomach convulsed, this time, you were dry heaving, which, although it wasn’t pleasant, it was better than bringing up bile.  
Gods, please let it be over, you begged, slumping against the wall between your main cell and the toilet basin. Beads of sweat clung to your face, mixing in places with the desperate tears induced by vomiting, You wished now that you’d ignored your growling stomach and left that damned potato to rot, Now, your stomach was empty, but it still rolled with nausea, moving made your head spin, it would be too difficult to crawl to the cot, only to have to rush back in here if the sickness came back. Reaching up slowly, you pushed the button that activated the water and closed your eyes, hoping that once your stomach had settled down you’d be able to get some rest. So you sat there, eyes closed, wishing for rest, for sleep, and, as the night wore on, that’s how you remained, resting but not quite asleep. You wondered if the poisonous potato was another experiment or if they’d poisoned you to wear you down – Both were just as likely as the other, You didn’t get food poisoning, you were Half of Asgard, where mead and meat were as freely available as trees and water. Finally after what felt like hours of sitting in a stupor, you finally had enough strength to drag yourself onto your hands and knees and crawl from the bathroom. You pulled yourself onto your cot and curled under the thin sheets. It was more comfortable then sleeping next to the toilet, and eventually you drifted off into a calm sleep.  
You awoke screaming, vice like hands around your wrists and ankles, pulling you off the bed and dragging you from your cell. Being woken so suddenly and violently knocked you dizzy, and for a moment, you couldn’t figure out where you were or what was happening. You struggled and yelled, kicking and biting as you were wrestled onto a bed and strapped down. You felt a prick in your arm, and felt the pressure of a needle being depressed. The effect was instantly numbing, and you gasped as the drug took effect, making your limbs feel heavy and sluggish and making it difficult for you to focus on anything, the ceiling lights danced in front of your vision. You shook your head, trying to get some measure of clear-headedness, It took a few seconds, but eventually everything swam back into focus, leaving you with a prickling tingling sensation that danced in waves up and down your skin.   
Across one of the men’s face, you had left three long gashes, which were bleeding. Good, you thought to yourself, at least you’d done some damage. They could do whatever they wanted to you, but as long as you kept fighting, they’d never win.

\---

Mid-day, and Thor was pacing around the main room of the tower like a caged animal, much to Tony Stark’s annoyance – he was sitting at the bar, nursing a hangover and a mug of Herbal tea that Pepper had forced him to drink. “Hey, Thor, Buddy, could you, Y’know… be quieter.”  
Thor stopped his pacing on the Hardwood floor. “My apologies. I am… unsettled.”  
From across the room, Steve, who had been reading that day’s paper, looked up. “Unsettled, why?”  
“My niece, Y/N, told me she would be visiting for a while.” Thor replied, “But she has yet to turn up, although I know she left Asgard three days ago.”  
Steve frowned, his brows furrowing. “Niece, as in?”  
Thor nodded. “She is Loki’s daughter, yes.” Tony looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes, and they shared a look that Thor didn’t notice. They knew how much damage Loki had. “She’s not like Loki, At least, not the Loki you knew.”  
“Man she’s got to have some Daddy Issues with that guy’s parenting skills.” Tony Said, earning a frown from Thor before the Demi-god went back to his pacing.  
Steve felt for him. “Maybe she’s just lost?” he vouched. “I mean, if it’s her first time to earth…”  
“Shield would have picked up the Energy spikes from that Transport beam thing.” Tony countered.  
“The Bifrost.”   
“Gesundheit”  
“Then maybe SHIELD picked her up.” Steve turned and looked at Tony. “Did you pick up any energy readings?”  
“Of course.” Steve gave him a deadpan look and Thor looked murderous. “Alright, Alright, jeez… There was a ping about 20 miles north of here.”  
“Why did you not tell us this?!” Thor demanded, outside, the sky visibly darkened with a low rumble of thunder.  
“Woah, woah. Easy.” Ever the Peacekeeper, Steve stepped between them, Hands raised. “Look, Clint and Tasha have got connections, we’ll see if SHIELD has picked her up…” 

\---

Your veins were on fire. The serum they had given you burned through your bloodstream, and you screamed and writhed where you were tethered to the table. Around you, scientists tried to pin you down, it took five of them to hold you still, but the fire still raged through you, every breath that filled your lungs burned as you shook, tears streaming down your cheeks. Every fibre of your body was screaming, cramping and burning at the same time, so painful that you thought it wouldn’t end. Davidson and the man you’d learned was the man in charge of the other scientists, stood off to the side, watching and observing. Eventually the pain started to lessen, but you were left shaking and whimpering, your body spasming as you heaved a sob. You’d been here for hours, being injected with various potions that all had different effects, one had made you blind for two hours, another had given you the most terrifying hallucinations that you had ever seen, this one was by far the worse, it had left you shaken, the agony breaking through your resolve, there’d been a point where you’d begged them to make it stop, begged them to just kill you and get it over with, but instead they’d watched you write and cry. You vowed then to kill every single one of them.  
“Impressive.” Davidson observed, setting down her notebook and walking over. Like an obedient puppy, the lead scientist followed behind her. “How would we utilise it?”  
“In smaller doses, it can be administrated through darts, the doses would be enough to incapacitate a person for a minute or so.”  
“Work on increasing the concentration of those doses. A minute isn’t enough.” She ordered. The lead scientist nodded. “Now, what else do you have for me?”” Their voices became indistinct as you let your head drop to the side, tears clung to your cheeks and lashes, and your body still shook from the after effects of their potions, but you felt yourself drifting asleep, and it was the first taste of real sleep that you had gotten since this entire thing began, and you welcomed it.

You were awoken by a hard, sharp slap to your cheek, and you gasped in surprise, jerking against the straps that held you down. A round of laughter went through the scientists gathered around you, but instead of reacting to them, you fixed Agent Davidson with a steely glare as she smiled sweetly down at you. You hoped to make her quail, to back away from you in surprise like she had earlier, but she did neither, instead she looked around at the other scientists. “Well,” She gave them all a condescending look. “Get her up.” The straps around your arms and legs were undone, and, sensing an opportunity, you allowed the scientists to lift you to your feet, two on either side, holding your arms and one in front – you even pretended to have no strength in your legs, just to keep their guards down. With them holding you, you took two ‘shaky’ steps forward, learning everything you needed to about the room in a single glance. As you felt the hands on your arms loosen only slightly, you lunged, driving your knee into the stomach the man in front of you, dropping him to the ground. Making yourself dead weight, you dropped, your arms slipping free as you swept your leg out, knocking the first scientists legs out from under him and sending him crashing to the floor. Reaching up, you grabbed the collar of the others scrubs and grabbed the hem, standing and using all of your momentum to send him over your head and into the wall, his head hit smooth time and he slid down the wall before falling still. Without blinking, you slid across the room, grabbing a small knife from a tray.

Gods it felt good to have a knife again, even one as miniscule as the one you held. It was little more than a letter opener, but it was sharp, and it was all you needed. The two Scientist minions were on their feet again, and coming towards you, you tackled the closes one first, whirling and bringing the tiny blade up and under, leaving a long gash up his side. Before he could recover, you kept turning, bringing your foot up and lashing out with a roundhouse kick that fractured his nose and snapped his head back. He went down and stayed down. Again, you followed the momentum of the turn and dropped, the second minion was almost on you. Still crouched, you lunged forward, driving the knife into his leg. He screamed, but before he could react more, you had stabbed again, driving the knife through his other leg. Yanking your hand back, you curled your hand into a fist around the blade and elbowed him first, before slamming your fist into the side of his head. Although not unconscious, this one had the sense to stay down too. From across the room, the sound of glass shattering was quickly followed by the shrill shriek of an alarm, Agent Davidson had backed herself into the far corner, and near the door, the Lead Scientist had hit the alarm. You stood, your knife slick with blood, and turned, the same moment you took a step towards Davidson, you flung the blade, which struck the Lead scientist in the shoulder and sent him to the ground. Hmn, your aim was off. Another two steps and you picked up another one of the miniature blades, from a table along the wall. Slowly, with a predatory smile on your face, you prowled towards where Davidson stood, you tossed the blade in your hand, catching it again before passing it between your hands, toying with her. That deep dark part of you wanted to savour every minute of this, but the larger part of you just wanted to get it over with and get out of this hell hole.   
“I warned you…” You hissed. Instead of looking fearful, Davidson just laughed.  
“Did you really think it would be that easy?” She asked. You frowned, confused for a second before you sensed the presence behind you, you spun on your heal and lashed out with a swift stabbing motion at whoever was behind you, you realised with a shock that it was the Scarfaced man from the first time you were brought to this place. He sidestepped your stab and brought the side of his hand down on your wrist. The blade slipped from your grasp and you backed up a step, knowing now that the only chance you had of beating this man was with what your father had taught you. You dodged his next punch and spun again, lashing out with a sideways kick to the knee and an uppercut. But that was where it ended, still shaken by your ideal, you miss-stepped, and you came in too close. It was all that he needed to gain the advantage, one arm wrapped around your throat, and the other caught your arms and pulled them behind your back. You gasped and struggled, trying to work your arms free from behind you, but Scarface tightened his arm around your throat, cutting off your air. For a few seconds, you struggled, bringing the heel of your foot down on top of his, which had no effect, he was wearing thick boots. As your head started to buzz from lack of Oxygen, you stopped, giving in and watching as Davidson moved across the room to the counter where the scientists had stored their potions. Gods you were for it now…

Davidson turned her head, fixing you with a simpering, condescending smile, a smile filled with poison. “If only you hadn’t drifted off there, you would have known all about this little serum, what it can do…” She said, her voice carrying across the room. She took a syringe, and filled it with liquid from a bottle. “It was designed as precautionary measure, you see, to make sure we had something just in case you decided to cause a scene.” You realised with a stab of horror that she’d just orchestrated your entire escape attempt. “Of course, the dear doctor thought it a bit… extreme. He didn’t want to use it unless we knew for sure that you were a genuine threat.” She paused. “I guess you showed him.”  
You struggled again, gasping as Scarface tightened his grip, he was bigger than you, and had better leverage, and with your arms fastened behind you, you couldn’t move enough to get a good stance. “Stay away from me!” You yelled, struggling to get away as Davidson approached the needle in hand.  
“Hold her down.” Scarface pushed you to the ground, your knees hitting the floor with a painful crack. He forced you down by the neck, pinning your arms and pressing his knee into your back between you shoulder blades. You writhed, panicked by the pressure on your back and the clack of Davidson’s heels as she walked toward you. The blood slicked hands of the Lead scientist wrapped around you ankles, pinning them as you struggled hard to get away.  
“I’d say this won’t hurt, but this particular neurotoxin, one of own blends, is especially excruciating,”  
You felt a sharp stabbing pain into your lower back followed by a prickling burning sensation that spread through you. You gasped, wincing at the unpleasant, but certainly not agonising sensation. It felt a little like the painful prickling sensation that followed blood returning to your limbs. The gasp turned into cry as your entire body spasmed and pain, white hot burning pain raced through your legs. The pain came fast, making your back arched and your moth opened in a silent scream, even if you had screamed, it would have been drowned out by the ringing in your ears. Every muscle in your body was locked, every nerve screaming out at once until you couldn’t take it. Black filled the edges of your vision. The voices of Davidson, Scarface and the scientist faded into nothing and the darkness consumed you.


	4. VINCTUS - part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your resolve starts to crumble, but Steve shows up just in time,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Paralysis, fasting, experimentation, Agent Davidson, Rescue, fighting off an agent with a mop, desperate badassery, choking.

You woke up in your cell, the first thing you noticed was that a sheet had been draped over you, and that the lights in the corridor where out. The second thing you noticed was the numb, prickling sensation at the base of your spine, and the aches of fresh bruises. A plate of food sat on the table, but you ignored it, no longer trusting the appealing and familiar aroma of broth. You felt off, knowing instinctively something was wrong. Carefully, you sat yourself up and looked around your small cell, it was the same as always. With a sigh, you started to get up, pulling back the sheet before staring at your legs, a mixture of confusion and dread racing through you, for a moment you sat there, willing them to move and then screaming at them silently – nothing happened. You touched your hand to them, and with a horrified cry, you realised that not only couldn’t you move them, but you couldn’t feel them. You nipped, prodded and slapped, willing something, anything to happen. Nothing.  
It was then you started to cry, after swearing to yourself that you’d stay strong, you broke.  
You weren’t like your father, as much as you tried to be, as much as you shared his mannerisms and his wit, you just weren’t as strong as he was – but you could pretend to be. You lay down, draped one arm over your head, and plotted, remembering to keep a twisted smile on your face.

By some miracle, you managed to keep up the sarcasm and nastiness for a week, white knuckling through their poisons and poultices, you’d heard the terms ‘increased concentration’ and ‘more effective’ tossed about between scientists, and as time went on, you realised that each dosage seemed to do more damage, and their effects grew more long lasting. It came to the point when you broke, you gave in, and you didn’t fight anymore. Since you’d stopped eating, your body, although more hardy than a mere mortals, was dealing with more, but running on practically nothing.   
A few of the scientists had worried aloud about how much weight you’d lost, if your now, near skeletal frame could handle much more, you’d laughed at them, and secretly hoped you wouldn’t last much longer. Even if you went to Hel, denied a warriors death, the suffering dealt in the underworld was nothing compared to this. You’d continued to fight, and broke one of the scientists’ noses, until they’d threatened to inject you with the same ‘neuro-acid’ that had taken away your legs – You’d stopped trying to punch people after that, and soon you stopped struggling all together, when they again threatened to inject you with acid. The fear of losing more parts of you the way you had lost your legs terrified you. Too scared to struggle, eventually you realised there was no point to your snarky comments and threats, it was a waste of energy, and you realised that your resistance and threats were exactly the excuse Davidson needed to continue doing what she was doing. So you stopped, and gave in, forcing yourself to adapt.

\---

It took almost a week to find anything out from Natasha’s sources, and then another week to get any information that was useful. No matter how many times Steve had tried to calm Thor down and rationalise with him, the guy always got himself riled up again, ranting about ‘mortals’, when the information started coming in about what you’d been through, a perpetual thunderstorm settled over New-York, one that broiled for a full week. When Clint and Natasha brought back information they could move on, the storm worsened – Steve worried what Thor would do once they found you, what condition they’d find you in. Natasha’s source had told them you were still alive, but they’d said nothing about what you’d been through. 

The S.H.I.E.L.D building was disguised as an unsuspecting warehouse on the wharf, the plan was simple, Natasha and Clint would take a Quinjet and land on the pad, whilst Steve and Thor took the emergency stairs around the back down to the basement ‘science’ level. Clint’s plan was to cause as much of a distraction as possible whilst Steve and Thor got to you. Steve didn’t think it would go that well.  
Natasha’s voice came across the com-device, “Ready?”  
Steve shared a look with a thunderous Thor (Literally and figuratively), who nodded. “Ready.” He replied.  
From above them came a faint boom, one Steve instantly recognised as being similar to a bomb going off, ‘that would be Clint’s ‘distraction’. He nodded to Thor and followed him at a run into the emergency exit of the building, the red lights above the elevators were on, and, from inside, a siren could be heard wailing along with the calm intoning of a female voice over an announcement system. The doors, usually locked, were open, automatically released when the buildings emergency system came online. Shoving the doors open they ran down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time, Steve found himself being jolted whenever they hit a landing, and he fell into a rhythm, counting floors, run, jolt, counting floors.  
“Twelve! Thor, this is it!” With a single nod, Thor barrelled through the door, wielding Mjolnir like a battering ram. When Steve stepped through the door, he stared at the white walled hallways and signs with dismay; this place was a labyrinth, and the only directions were coloured arrows.  
Thor looked around in confusion, and also in anger. “Which way?!” He boomed. He might have sounded demanding, but Steve could hear the desperation in his voice.  
“Natasha, we’re on the science level. There are no signs, just arrows.”  
“Look for the blue arrows. That’ll take you to the cells. They call them holding facilities.”  
“Got it.” He spotted a blue arrow, pointing left. “There, follow the blue arrows.” Thor took off and Steve went after him, trying not to slip and slide on the floor, by now soaked with fire suppressant fluid. He understood the Demi-God’s desperation, if he’d been in the same situation, he’d probably have been just as frantic. The longer they followed the arrows, the tenser he got, he unclipped his Shield from his pack and tightened his grip on the handle, it was quiet, too quiet, and every fibre of him was on edge.

When they rounded a corner, they realised why, a group of S.H.I.E.L.D Agents were standing in the corridor, the blue lettered sign for ‘Holding Facilities’ above a double door behind them. He shared a look with Thor, who hefted Mjolnir, eyes locked on the Agents in his way. Steve knew he wouldn’t want to be stood where they were.  
“Thor?”  
“Continue through and find Y/N.” The Giant commanded, “I will hold them off.”  
Steve nodded; he didn’t doubt that Thor was capable of holding off an entire army by himself. Thor launched himself forward, Mjolnir spinning in his hand.   
“Thor! Don’t kill anyone, they’re still S.H.I.E.L.D.” Steve shouted before also running forward, shield braced in front of him as a deterrent. An Agent came at him, drawing a gun as she did, he spun and struck out, catching her on the arm with his shield and knocking the gun from her hand, before a swift punch to her jaw brought her down. His face twisted in a frown, he still didn’t like the idea of hitting a woman, before he kicked himself back into gear and battled his way through the Agents that got in his way, most were pre-occupied with Thor, who was bellowing and swinging Mjolnir like a berserker, taking on anyone who came at him. Steve ignored them, tossed who he could in Thor’s direction, or knocked out those who were a bit too persistent. Shield in front of him, he rammed through the doors, alarms still shrieking in his ears and his suit soaked from the sprinkler system. Beyond the door was a large cylindrical shaped room computers and desks on either side, he barely spared them a glance before jogging across the room a second door. He froze for a second, looking through the glass at the scene unfolding in the corridor beyond it, before prying open the door and running through.  
“HEY!”

\---

The alarm was what woke you, piercing shrieks from the corridor outside, along with a female voice calmly telling people to make their way to their nearest exits, a second after that, the glass door at the entrance to your cell slid open. And you heard the door at the end of the corridor unlock with a hiss. You wondered if this was some kind of trap – an ‘excuse’ for Davidson to inject you with more Neurotoxin, and render you trapped inside your own body. For a minute, you sat there, staring, waiting, before you dragged yourself from the bed and across the floor. It was slow, painful going, your wrists and arms were ringed with bruises, the inside of your arms pockmarked with injection sites, in some places, where the skin around them had burned, there were vicious red welts, some oozing puss and infection. An eerie sense of calm had settled over you, the calm you felt before stepping onto a battlefield, and you dragged yourself down a corridor that you blinked. It was raining inside. What in hells name was wrong with these people? They had to make it rain inside now too? That was it, raining indoors was the final snap for your mentality, you wanted out. Even if you didn’t make it out the building, you’d die trying, you weren’t going to live in this hell any longer.  
The door ahead of you slid open, followed by the stomp of a heavy booted shoe; you froze for a second, before looking up, only to be met by the cold eyes and disfigured face of the Scarfaced man. He reached for you, slow, domineering and callous, obviously thinking you weren’t in any state to fight – you weren’t really, but you had no intention of giving in, if anyone was likely to kill you stopping your escape, it was him. You watched him through guarded eyes, and, once his hand was close enough. You lashed out, grabbed it and twisted violently to the side, hearing the crunch of his wrist had never been a more satisfying. The man grunted, reaching with his other hand and grabbing you by the hair, he slammed tour head into the floor knocking you dizzy, you yelled, and grabbed hold of the nearest object, a mop, lying abandoned on the floor. You wielded it like a staff, stabbing and swinging, beating him back, even though your range of movement was severely limited, you managed to force him back a few steps, before jabbing the end of the op into his ribs, this time he grabbed hold of the bar, pulling it out of your hands before crouching over you, his hand instantly going to your throat. You started punching and slapping, reigning blows on his sides and ribs. You heard a few crack, saw flashes of pain on his face replaced by anger, his grip tightened, now painfully tight, and you could feel the pressure on either side of your neck. You stopped punching, hands now scrabbling at his arms and fingers, trying to find a grip, trying to find leverage or something to try and pull his hands away. The more you fought, the more oxygen you needed, and you found yourself trapped in a desperate downward spiral of death. 

A thought struck you then, one that had been plaguing you ever since you realised the only way out was death, you were Fighting. You were fighting him, you were going to die in battle. You were going to go to Valhalla. 

“HEY!” The pressure on your neck, lessoned, and then stopped as Scarface stood up, your lungs drew in a strangled breath, and you were coughing, head turned to the side as rivulets of water ran down your face, you were cold, shaking and pissed off to hell that Valhalla had been so, so close, and had again been denied to you. You lay there for a second before the sounds of a fight drew your attention to your surroundings, you tilted your head up, watching as Scarface took blow after punishing blow from a man wearing blue – mostly blue, you saw flashes of white and red, and the shield he was wielding was also blue, white and red. Scarface was giving as good as he got, and the stranger took a couple of staggering steps backward, you scrabbled for the mop, wincing at the pain radiating from your throat. As you did, Scarface took a step back, another punishing blow from Shield man – that Shield was starting to bug you, you’d seen it before, you were sure of it. You noticed that no matter how painful the blows seemed, Scarface just kept fighting, and even punched with his broken wrist, either he was ignoring the pain, or didn’t feel it to the extent of everyone else. Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the mop and you hefted it before swinging it with all your strength.   
It slammed into the back of Scarface’s knees, bending out of shape, and was accompanied by a loud, painful sounding crack. Scarface dropped with a hiss and Shield Man lunged, hand curled into a fist, he slammed it into Scarface’s face, his full weight behind it. There was a satisfying crunch, and the man that had haunted your nightmares and terrorized your living hours, fell still.  
There was a pause then, marked only by the wailing of the siren and the soft exhale of Shield Man, you backed up, dragging yourself backward. Yes, he’d beaten the crap out of Scarface, but he could still be one of them, maybe Scarface had gone rogue and this new apparent hero was going to take you straight back to your cell.

He pulled the headpiece back off his face and crouched in front of you, his blue eyes were kind and worried, and he no longer looked like an incredibly strong apparent hero, he looked like a normal guy, like Frandal when he didn’t have an unsuspecting lady hanging off each arm. He looked trustworthy and honest.  
“Y/N?” He said softly, you tensed, every part of you flicking between ‘do not trust’ and ‘maybe he’s not with them’ “Y/N, My name’s Steve Rogers, I’m here with your uncle, with Thor. Can you walk?”  
You shook your head, surprised by how croaky and weak your voice now sounded, you hadn’t spoken in weeks, only to scream. “They did something… my legs…”  
Without hesitating, he slipped one arm under your legs and the other around your back and lifted you into the air, you whimpered at the pain that laced through you, squeezing your eyes closed as your ears started to ring. You felt so suddenly heavy, the relief and hope that you’d get out hitting was you was like being sat on by a Bilgesnipe. Steve shifted you in his arms and another flash of pain raised through you, followed by sweet blackness.


	5. Chapter 5 (End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OC recovers in Avengers tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long to write, I hate endings, having to pull everything together and hope it comes out okay.

You weren’t unconscious for long, the pain, which had been too much to handle, woke you from blissful darkness. Your face scrunched up in pain and you let out a single muted whimper. The face of the man carrying you, Steve Rogers, looked down in worry, and you heard the booming voice of your uncle somewhere nearby. “Is she well?” Steve shook his head, and for a second you felt a stab of familiar annoyance at your uncle’s naivety, but it quickly faded when you registered the concern in his tone.  
“No, she’s pretty beat up, and she’s in and out…”  
“But she is alive?” Steve nodded in your peripheral.  
“Barely…” You murmured, your voice was a rasp, and it sent pain radiating through your throat. Thor’s blonde head came into view, the outline blurred, but you could see the worry and anger that darkened his face. His hand touched your face, gentle, but your skin was tender and you’d long come to fear the touch of another, you winced as the callouses of his palm rubbed against your raw cheek.  
“She needs medical attention…” Oh Thor, always stating the obvious.  
“Can we get her into Asgard?” Steve started running again, and the motion jarred you, making your eyes roll back as you fought to overcome the pain.  
“No, she would not make the journey.” Pride needled at your mind, urging you to object to Thor, but you didn’t, nor did you attempt to stop the tears of pain from streaming down your face. You were too tired. It hurt too much.

“Stop!” Steve skidded to a stop, and, just when you’d cotton use to the rhythmic stabs of pain shooting through you, the sudden jolt almost made you scream, instead you mewled, like a child. “That Alien is under SHIELD custody, put her down and put your hands above your head.” Davidson. She spat the word Alien like it was a disease. At the sound of her voice, you tensed, you couldn’t help it, that cold edge to her voice and her condescending attitude had dominated your every waking moment, it had been the last thing you’d hear before hours of experimentation, and the first thing you heard when they woke you up after passing out from pain, it was a voice you never wanted to hear again, your fist tightened its hold on one of the straps of Steve’s uniform, and almost instinctively you turned your head away from the blurred outline of Agent Davidson. Thor noticed. His voice was dark and ominous as thunder boomed outside.  
“Did you and your people do this to her?” He asked, his voice carried all the weight of Prince of Asgard, and you heard lightning crackle, you knew from memory that it was surging down his arm and into Mjolnir, ready for an explosive attack.  
“You’re okay…” Steve muttered, a small comfort but a comfort all the same, his arm ever so slightly tightened around your shoulders, you winced, which earned you an apology. You didn’t hear Davidson’s response, but you heard the roar of thunder and felt the heat from the lightning that blasted from Mjolnir. Steve broke into a run beside Thor, You cried out, the first properly audible sound you’d made, and Steve slowed to a pace which didn’t jar you too badly, the pain was intense, but compared to what you’d been through, it was bearable. 

At least until you hit the stairs, which Steve and Thor took two at a time, your head dropped back, your breaths ripping out of you in hard laboured gasps, But it wasn’t enough to make you black out, adrenaline kept you alert, kept your blood pumping, and added a sweet, sharp edge to the pain which screamed ‘I’m still alive.’   
The quick jarring motion stopped, and by that time, you were really too out of hit to care why, but the nip of cold, Stinking air caused you to shudder and turn your face into the source of the cool breeze. You felt like some sort of burrowing creature, feeling the sun for the first time. And it felt wonderful. Your eyes cracked open, and you felt a stab of relief as you watched Thor lead the way towards a vessel that stood waiting, engines rumbling. It was as black as a Dark Elf stealth ship, but sleek and slim lined, the height of Midgardian technology, printed on the side was an emblem that made you instinctively tense, the linear, winged eagle of S.H.I.E.L.D.   
Steve had barely stepped onto the back hatch of the vessel before it lifted from the ground, followed by a series of popping and bangs from the roof below. He seemed nonplussed, and walked further into the belly of the ship. You were on edge again, eyes weary as Steve lay you down on a thickly padded bench, it was covered in leather, and you recognised it instantly. When Steve stood, Thor crouched protectively beside you, Mjolnir beside him, and a warm but heavy hand on your shoulder.  
Safe. Your mind decided.  
“That was easier than I thought it would be.” A female voice, one that was almost ‘rough’ spoke from somewhere near the front of the ship, you couldn’t see her, but you were reminded of the Lady Sif, It was a voice that belonged to a woman who had fought long and hard to become the person she was.  
“Define ‘easy’.” Came another unfamiliar voice, also gruff.  
“Ignore him, He’s just mad one of those agents landed a punch on him.” There was a ringing in your ears which quickly became deafening, drowning out Thor’s voice, though you could still see his lips forming as he gently shook your shoulder. You realised it didn’t hurt anymore, there was no wave of pain running through your body, everything felt light, almost peaceful. You wondered if you should be worried that you felt no pain, when pain had been so central to your existence for so long. But that didn’t matter. You were safe…

\---  
White. That was the first thing you were aware of, White, shining through your eyelids, a heavy sinking feeling settled in your chest, and for long awful minutes, you didn’t dare open your eyes, for fear that you would see her. The thought of seeing that woman’s face, smiling and telling you how successful their latest vision inducing potion – they’d called it an ‘Hallucinogen’ – had been.   
“Y/N? Are you awake?” The voice startled you, and you flinched badly, gasping as sudden pain radiated from the damaged nerves in your back. Your eyes flashed open at the sounds of footsteps approaching, and then filled with relieved tears at the sight of Steve Rogers, wearing a plain white shirt and grey pants, hovering over you with concern, but when he saw the relief on your face, the concern was replaced by a soft smile, he took a seat on a small chair beside your bed. “You had us worried for a while there… especially Thor. I’ve never seen the guy that shook up…” You watched him, feeling a stab of guilt. Thor had suffered enough, he’d lost his mother, and believed his brother dead, The loss of another family member would have destroyed him. His father’s dead too…   
You shut down that train of guilty thought before it could get a hold and took a moment to look around the room you were in. the ‘white’ light you’d seen through your closed eyelids was this world’s sun, streaming through floor to ceiling windows, the view of the city was grand in its own way – nothing like Asgard, of course, but it was still a civilised, yet raw type of beauty.  
The room was beautiful too, a soft off white with a pale blue patterned wall, opposite, on that wall was a fireplace, at least you assumed it was a fireplace, there was fire, and it crackled merrily, even from over here, you could feel the heat - which made you a little uncomfortable – radiating from it but it was set part way up the wall, something you had never seen before.  
“Where am I?” You ask, your voice was a rasp, and it ached the back of your throat, you coughed, and winced at the shooting pain it caused. You heard glass chink beside you and Steve held a glass out to you.  
“Stark Tower,” Your hands shook as you took a sip of the water, it was cool and crisp and instantly soothing. “It’s the safest place since Thor didn’t want to risk taking you back to Asgard…” You nodded, handing him the glass back after drinking only a little. “How are you feeling?”  
“Tired… Sore… But better than I was…” You did feel better – at least physically, Your hair had been freshly washed, nails trimmed and you felt clean for the first time in three long weeks. Mentally better, maybe. Your emotions were still all over the place.  
“Good… Our Doc says you’ll be fine.”  
“My legs?” They were a painful memory, and when Steve was silent for a few seconds, you feared the worst.  
“We’re not sure…” He finally said, his eyes were honest and sad. “The nerves are healing, but slowly.”  
“They experimented with my Genetics, it’s damaged my healing capabilities, as well as other things.” His brow furrowed. “It’s temporary – at least, it has been so far.”  
“Ahh…” He fell quiet again, and immediately you tried to reach for your Seidr, the Magick that flowed in your veins, rejoicing when the familiar power prickled under your fingers. Seidr was always the first thing to return, it never failed you.

\---

Thor, you realised, only moved from your bedside when Steve or the loud, annoying man everyone called Stark, made him go get food or water. Stark owned the tower, and was a Multi-billionaire whose fortune came from a family business in producing weapons. Clint – the unfamiliar male voice from the vessel you’d escaped from – had laughed when you’d asked if Stark was a Weapon smith, and had explained he was more of a Warlord than anything. There was Natasha, the woman from the vessel, a no-nonsense woman, who Tony had told you was the ‘Black Widow’. You knew then that she was the Assassin that Loki had talked about. The final member of the team was Bruce Banner, who you decided was the kindest, yet darkest mortal you’d ever met, Although he tended to stay out of the bickering and pettiness that Stark seemed to so eagerly engage in, he watched with an amused yet bored expression, you recognised it only because you saw it in Loki’s eyes when the courtiers and lords argued in council meetings.   
You spent most of your nights sleepless, curled foetal position, knowing that in the darkness no-one could see you – it was only then, in the darkness and solitude of your room in stark tower that you could find some solitude, some measure of peace from a world you’d been so excited to visit, but one you’d be so relieved to leave.  
\---

You sat on top of the counters that wrapped around the wall of Stark’s Bio Lab, tired eyes, watching as Banner examined a sample of your blood under a microscope, he talked about the increased number of regenerative cells, how quickly you were recovering, one area he’d avoided talking about was your legs, in a way, you were grateful to him for that.  
Physically, you were recovering well, you didn’t want to think about how you were coping mentally, or emotionally. It wasn’t as if you were copping well, but you weren’t coping badly either, you just weren’t coping, you didn’t want to deal with it, or talk to someone about how you felt. Not yet.  
Banner wasn’t a ‘medical professional’ at least so he’d said, but he knew the basics, and enough to know improvement when he saw it. He gave you a ‘clean bill of health’ and helped you back into the Avengers main room. Steve, Tasha, Clint and Thor were gathered around the large ‘TV’ screen, game controllers in hand, it was something you’d seen them do often, and you’d realised that they were interacting with the screen, playing with each other, although you thought ‘competing’ would be a better way to phrase it. Banner got you to the chair that you occupied most often, it was becoming your favourite, you had a view of the city, and of the rest of the room, and it allowed you to interact with everyone without getting too close.

\---

Thor had left for Asgard – when you told him, he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe you, but you hadn’t broken his faith like Loki had and, in his naivety, he’d decided to trust you, so he’d returned, to see Asgard as she was now, you couldn’t help feel excited for him, Asgard was perfect. The poverty that had plagued the under city was gone, crime rates had decreased – admittedly only after the initial increase, Loki had responded to that with an Iron fist, increasing the severity of punishments and taking a ‘zero-tolerance’ attitude with criminals, they were sent to the quarry’s and Mines of Asgard for their sentencing, well treat, of course, but their new king was not going to let them sit idle when they could be serving the community they worked against.  
In your opinion, it didn’t matter how Loki came to the throne, or whether or not he had a birth right to it. Odin himself had been part Jotun. If a king did well by his country, then he was a good king.  
“Even after everything he did here?” Natasha asked, her head tilted to the side as she looked at you.   
“He remembers very little of his actions here on Midgard.” You replied. “I believe that the effect that the Tesseract had on him left him vulnerable to Thanos’ will, vulnerable but not controlled by it, he excepts responsibility for those actions and is trying to make amends for it.” Clint looked like he understood, although he said nothing.   
“What happened to him before, even Fury admitted he looked sick when he first came through that door we created.” He finally asked, taking a mouthful of Midgardian beverage.   
“He does not speak of it, and I do not ask him about it.” you replied.  
“Sounds simple.” That comment came from Stark, who was beginning to grate on your nerves. He did with everyone, especially Steve, who half the time looked like he wanted to throw the ‘Iron Man’ out of the window of the Tower. you nodded, but for the most part ignored him.

\---

You were smiling, maybe for the first time in a long, painful few weeks, but the smile on your face was real as sat on one of the seats in a hot tub – Natasha had suggested that the jets would help to relax your sore leg muscles – aching from a regiment of swimming and an assortment of therapies. You couldn’t walk on your own, but you were getting there. Your Seidr was fuelling your healing, and you’d been flexing your magical muscles, little pranks when Stark irked you too much, It made Steve laugh, something you enjoyed, partially because the guy was so serious all the time.  
Thor had returned from Asgard a few weeks ago, but a week ago, he’d gone to spend time with his mortal woman, Jane. Before he’d left he had told you that he’d had to convince Loki not to return to Midgard, and that he’d been a frightening mix of worried and angry. You agreed, after the fiasco he caused last time, it definitely wasn’t a good idea to bring Loki to Midgard.  
The nightmares kept everyone awake, you’d be shaking from them, sobbing hysterically, but the next morning you put on a brave face and pretend it never happened. For the most part they’d let you, but occasionally, Steve or Bruce, or even Natasha would watch you out of the corner of their eye, or make an extra effort to keep you involved with what was going on.  
You were grateful to them, and it helped you cope.  
When the feeling in your legs had first returned to you, you broke down crying, startling everyone in the room. You hadn’t even realised until you’d spilt some burning hot coffee on your leg – Half Jotun as you were, the skin immediately blistered on contact with the boiling liquid, but you didn’t mind, you were just relieved you’d felt it.  
Since then, You’d focused every fibre of your essence into recovering use of your legs, it was hard, every time you failed you wanted to curl into a ball, but they pushed you. This ragged band of misfits were the ones who had found your broken pieces and put you back together. You were eternally grateful to have met them.  
\---

It had been three months since the Avengers had rescued you from Davidson, since they’d saved you from a fate worse than death.  
You stood in a forest clearing, getting ready to head home to Asgard, somewhere you would be very grateful to return to, but at the same time, you would sorely miss the people you’d come to count as friends.  
Absently, you smoothed your hand over the cool, metal cuffs that clasped your forearms. Your dress was a simple one, Floor length, plum coloured with delicate patterns embossed into the material. Thor had brought it back with him from his last visit, and Loki had it made especially.  
You’d said your goodbyes, but hesitated when faced with Steve, who had done more for you than anyone else. “Thank you…” You finally said, meeting the man’s eyes. “I owe you a life debt.”  
“Don’t be-”  
“I do, you saved my life, that Agent would have killed me. If you need me, I will be there.” I smiled. “And of course, your welcome to come to Asgard whenever you like.” You shared a hug, because it felt appropriate, and made your way to the centre of the meadow.  
“Heimdal, I’m ready! Open the Bifrost!”

With its distinct roar, the colours of the Bifrost enveloped you, it’s currents lapping at you, as you watch, the image of the Avengers watching in awe vanishes, replaced by swirling lights and, beyond that, nebula’s and galaxies.  
The great engine dies as you step out onto the solid gold floor of the Heimdal’s watchtower, and immediately you feel that heavy invisible weight that you’d carried in Midgard vanish. Heimdal greeted you with a nod.  
“We’re glad to see you safe, princess.” You returned his nod with a smile. Thor had explained that the watcher had been unable to see you, so of course you held no ill will to the man.  
“It’s good to be back, thank you, Heimdal.” You looked around, and almost instantly found his familiar, green blue eyes.  
“Welcome Home, Y/N.”  
“Hello, father.” You grinned.


End file.
